Chapter 2

So my lessons were going along just great and I felt like I was making some progress. At least I was able to draw things with a lot more confidence and accuracy than at the beginning of summer. My anatomical drawings included skeletons from an anatomy text and then the muscles attached to them. I didn't have to memorize the names of the bones and muscles like a medical student, thank goodness, but I did have to learn how they fit together and where and how the muscles were laid over them to make us look like we do. I remember thinking that if I went bust as an artist and decided to become a doctor, I'd sure have a jump on the other anatomy students.

About the middle of August, Mrs. James did something that shocked me clean down to my toenails. She was looking at some of my drawings of the human body and said, "OK, Terry, tell me what's missing from these sketches."

I looked real hard but I couldn't get what she was asking me. "I'm not sure, Mrs. James. I guess they could be better but I am working on it."

"Yes you are and I think you're doing very well. But the problem is that what you're drawing is pictures of pictures of the human body. You're drawing two-dimensional sketches of two-dimensional drawings or photos. How do you suppose that affects how you see your models?"

"Um, well I guess that makes them kind of flat."

"Exactly! From now on you won't be reproducing what you find in books. For human body studies and everything else for that matter, you need that third dimension. You wait right here, I'll be back in a few minutes."

Well, I don't know what I was expecting but it sure as hell wasn't what I got. A few minutes later, Mrs. James came back into the studio, moved a chair in front of me, dropped the robe she was wearing and sat down to pose as naked as a jaybird! Apparently my eyes bugged out and my chin dropped to my chest because she looked at my face and broke out laughing.

"Good lord, Terry, get a grip! I'm just the first of many models who are going to sit for you so you tell me how you want me to pose and start drawing. But before you do, let me explain something to you. When you're looking at a photo or a drawing, what you see is all you're going to get, right? When you're drawing a live model, any movement of your head or the model's position is going to give you a slightly different view. You're going to see different shadows, highlights, even wrinkles. Now, lets do some sketches and then we'll evaluate them."

It probably goes without saying that most fifteen year-old boys don't have a lot of experience gazing at real live naked women, at least in the society I grew up in. Try as I would, I couldn't keep my eyes off Mrs. James' boobs (they hardly had any sag at all) or the dark pubic hair peeking up from between her legs.

Like I said before, she did not have the body you'd expect of an old lady and to my supreme embarrassment, I popped a boner right then and there. I sat on the stool squirming and trying to position myself so it wouldn't show but all my discomfort just made it that much more obvious. Mrs. James watched me struggle for a while before she addressed the issue.

"Terry, are you doing all that fidgeting around to hide an erection?"

Ohmygod, how could she even ask that question? My face must have flashed several shades of crimson and all I could come out with was "Um, uh, erm, ah!"

"Put the sketch pad down, Terry."

I laid the pad on the table beside me and sat there with my knees pressed together and my body bent over at the hips to hide the tent in my pants.

To her credit, Mrs. James never laughed or teased me. She looked me right in the eyes and said, "Terry, I'll take your physical reaction to my body as a compliment. That said, most male brains, especially male brains in the throes of pubescent changes like yours are wired to react in certain ways to female forms. It's completely reasonable that you would be a little uncomfortable about it but you have no reason to be ashamed of it. You'll need to get used to seeing naked people if you want to become an artist.

"So here's the deal; I'll ignore your erection if you will. Position you penis so that it isn't uncomfortable for you and lets get on with the lesson. I want you to sketch me from three different poses of your choosing. I figure each should take about twenty minutes, OK? Good, let's begin."

If she'd been any less understanding, I would have been terminally mortified. I turned away from her as I reached into my pants to move my stiffy to where it wasn't under any pressure and resumed my seat on the stool. Half way through the first sketch, my mind was focused on what I was doing and my dick had pretty much lost interest. There was a momentary revival when I had to concentrate on her areolas, nipples and pubic hair but I tried to ignore it.

When I finished, she put her robe back on and we sat on a small couch to analyze my work. She studied all three sketches closely before she said anything, then she patted my knee and smiled. "Not too bad. You did a nice job on the poses you chose and your proportions are very good. There is one issue, however. I appreciate your making my body look so young but it isn't accurate. A woman my age is going to have a certain amount of loose skin, breasts that sag more than you're showing and other signs of aging all over her body.